


I will not go to Minnesota

by lyonie17



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-13
Updated: 2007-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyonie17/pseuds/lyonie17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My most sincere apologies to the estate of  Doctor Seuss.  Lovelock, Nevada, does exist in life and film.  Dean and Sam have apparently both read Harry Potter, but obviously have no respect for  J.K.'s deep life-lessons.  I know Shrek isn't Disney, but I'm pretty sure Sam doesn't care.  There is apparently more than one movie in which the shape of Colin Farrell is observable, but I've only seen the historical film.  Really.</p></blockquote>





	I will not go to Minnesota

"Fuck."  
"What? Lemme see. Fuck. Shit!"  
"Told you."  
"But I TOLD him - "  
"Man, we both told him. We showed him the journal, we sent him the web pages, and we ordered the books for him. We translated the Latin and Norse, and drew the tattoo out for him. We could have translated it into baby talk or Pig Latin I guess, but from the looks of this, he wouldn't get it in a Doctor Seuss book."  
"FUCK."  
"Yes. Although, not, in a Doctor Seuss book."  
"Fuck."  
"Inge's gonna be real happy about this."  
"Yeah, she is. Shit. OK, let's go."  
"Where to? I thought that lovey-dovey place in Nevada was next?"  
"It is."  
"But - the moon is waning! You know he's gonna be too far gone if we sidetrack to Nevada first. Anyway, I thought that was zombies. Zombies can wait longer."  
"It's Lovelock, Atlas Boy. And the zombies aren't waiting because we're too late. We just need something from the Hall of Records. I heard some guy Ellen knows actually took care of the zombies last month."  
"Last MONTH?"  
"What?"  
"We're going to Nevada, but there are no zombies, somebody already finished the job. We're chasing paper."  
"Yep."  
"Not to Minnesota to help the cursed guy with the urgent medical issue."  
"Nope."  
"So we're going records-diving while this guy's nads shrivel and his dick falls off? Have I got that right? And we're gonna explain that to his wife how?"  
"You can explain it if you wanna get involved. I'm not explaining anything to Inge. I'm going to Lovelock."  
"You're serious."  
"I've never been to Azkaban. Yes, I'm going to Nevada, I'm taking the Impala, and the only way you're going anywhere else is shank's mare, so come on. I spent the last of the cash on gas and Twinkies, and our next mail drop isn't for three hundred miles. Come on. Sammy. Sam. Look. We could go to Minnesota, fix it, be done in six hours and on our way. But you know we'd just be back there the next year. And the year after that and the year after that until we couldn't make it one year, 'cause of Armageddon or some California apocalypse thing. If he was dumb enough to go back, then he's too stupid to believe us if he never actually loses - it."  
"Christo."  
"Christo yourself, dude. I'm not evil, only misunderstood. I have layers, like an -"  
"Shit. You're actually going to ignore this, AND make Disney jokes. I can't believe you. What about saving people and killing things? Rambo has left the building? Huh? What about Inge?"  
"What about Inge? She'll be fine. It's not contagious. Limited to the 'actual organ of the individual involved,' I think you said? So she'll be fine, its just Earl, and he could stand to lose a few - pounds."  
"Classy."  
"You're just mad you didn't say it first. Come on, Sam, do you really want to do that ritual again? For Earl? Really? Dude, that guy is just not made right. I mean, if it was at least some hot guy, maybe it would be worth it, but Earl is fugly, dude. Colin Farrell at least is shaped - normally."  
"So now you're not helping him cause his looks don't meet your standards of male beauty? Who knew you were such a bitch-queen, Dee-na. And how do you know what Colin -"  
"No, SAMANTHA, I just don't see why I should have to spend six hours talking to some ugly guy's dick just cause he can't keep it in his pants around Val -"  
"DEAN!"  
"WHA - oh. Right, thanks. Um, you know, Horny Hat Chicks. Better?"  
"Your funeral, dude. I'll build you a good pyre with a nice ship and everything. You wanna take the swords with you? You-Know-What's have never been properly catalogued, and personally, I have no interest in any more intimate information about them than we already have. And the ritual is in fact addressed to the victim's libido, not to his dick, Dean, so Colin, Earl, some pencil-dick Viking fan-boy, or a troll - not a syllable of difference. Don't look so disappointed, at least you've seen Colin."  
"Whatever, Sam. Look, I'm not going to Minnesota, ok? Earl has all the information; he could have protected himself although he obviously did not. I'm not wasting time, gas, or money going to pull his dick out of a - crack. I'm going to Nevada, and maybe if you sit up and beg, I'll let you see Las Vegas."  
"You know, a lot of times, extreme phobias actually mask subconscious tendencies. Are you sure you've never wanted to look at guys, Dean? No secret Playgirl mags in your separate mail drops? Hmm? In Vegas, we could rent that cowboy flick you've been wanting to see. Something about a mountain?"  
"If I wanted to look at dick, I certainly couldn't find any around here. You are the textbook case for dickless, man. Right between dickhead and dickwad, page 97, Webster's."  
"That's not even - DEAN!"  
"No."  
"Why not?"  
"I told you."  
"Yeah, I got the dick phobia. Why don't you care?"  
"I care. I really, really do. I'm gonna make a nice scrapbook with all our notes, and pictures of shrunken dicks, and some of Dad's stronger comments on the subject, and a picture of you at the end, exhibit C: young male human born without dick; I'm going to decorate it with sparkles and glitter glue and glow-in-the-dark decals, and then I'm going to mail it all to Earl and Inge, with a nice little note about the wages of sin. And maybe, just maybe, if we're in the area next year, we could drop by and unshrink Earl and his tool, as a reward for good behavior. Not that he'll have any choice. But I'm not promising anything, and you're not to slip any ritual instructions in."  
"Don't worry, Dean, I'm not going to do anything to your package."

I will not go to Minnesota,  
I will not cure the curs'd idiota.   
I will not do it, Sam - I - Am.   
I do not like Green Eggs and Ham.

**Author's Note:**

> My most sincere apologies to the estate of Doctor Seuss. Lovelock, Nevada, does exist in life and film. Dean and Sam have apparently both read Harry Potter, but obviously have no respect for J.K.'s deep life-lessons. I know Shrek isn't Disney, but I'm pretty sure Sam doesn't care. There is apparently more than one movie in which the shape of Colin Farrell is observable, but I've only seen the historical film. Really.


End file.
